Hindrance
by Moonlit Tiger Lily
Summary: For years, Jack and Samantha's would-be love has been hindered by their careers, but something has changed. Will it be enough?
1. Chapter 1

Hindrance

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate: SG-1, Stargate: Atlantis, or any characters related to said programs.

Major General Jack O'Neill strode through the subterranean hallways of the Cheyenne Mountain Base and felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia come over him. He couldn't deny he was pleased with the progress he had made in his career and, if nothing else, he was certainly flattered to be employed in the Department of Homeworld Security. But desks and computers weren't his thing and if he laid eyes on another piece of paperwork while he was on this pathetic excuse for a vacation he thought he would end up taking hostages. _A working vacation, _he scoffed. _Who ever heard of such a thing?_ Really, what was the point? Wasn't it the same thing as a business trip?

Of course, his fondness for Cheyenne Mountain was well known, as was the fact that he still kept a house in the Colorado woods. Unfortunately, his offers to his coworkers to spend an afternoon fishing seemed somehow empty when he no longer spent his down time next to an uninhabited pond. Jack had bought that small house for a reason, though. He sat on the dock and tossed a hook into the still waters so that he would have some time to think - time to stare at the stars through his telescope without wondering what was up there.

He'd come back to Cheyenne Mountain several times for a reason too, and it had little to do with Homeworld Security. Samantha Carter, in all her nerdy glory, had graced these rooms. He'd pushed that thought into the back of his mind countless times, but it was always there, waiting to resurface. The concrete halls seemed empty without her. Jack hadn't wanted to come back to Colorado, but they thought they were doing him a favor since he had jumped at the opportunity so many times. Being at the base seemed wrong when he knew he wouldn't run into her as he passed the corner. Sure, things would feel off if it was Daniel or Teal'c that had taken a position in Atlantis, but Jack wouldn't have flown two thousand miles with a piss poor excuse just to see one of them. Not after only a few months.

He would have turned down the offer. He would rather have spent a week solid in his dingy office staring out a window that might as well not have been there for all the wonderful scenery it provided him of East Thirteenth Street. But he'd won that game of chess with Jennings down the hall and, instead of making the poor kid come to work in nothing but woman's underwear, he'd asked for a favor. So he'd found out that Colonel Samantha Carter was due back today to report on the Atlantis Expedition. A little finessing of the dates of his own trip back and he would be right there waiting for her arrival.

What possessed him to do so was beyond him. _Just to see an old friend_, he told himself, but was unconvinced. He'd long since admitted to himself that his feelings for the astrophysicist were not entirely platonic. Okay, maybe not at all platonic. Still, they'd silently agreed that there was nothing to be done about it. Neither was willing to sacrifice a career and they shouldn't have to do so. It was just their rotten luck that they'd gone into fields that were not entirely dissimilar. Still, he'd rather it this way than that they had never met. He enjoyed her company even if he couldn't have her and even if she was always spouting some incomprehensible scientific technobabble.

Thinking to drop in on his friend, Jack made a detour into the museum that was the workplace of Dr. Daniel Jackson. The man in question stood leaning over a book, one arm supporting his weight. The other hand was frozen in midair; it seemed he had taken off his glasses and promptly forgotten his arm existed, leaving it where it was. From the lack of acknowledgement, O'Neill assumed Daniel had not noticed his arrival, but he did not seem startled, nor did he even look up, when Jack greeted him.

"Just a second," Daniel replied, gesturing loosely with the glasses in his previously forgotten hand. Placing a StickyNote to mark his point on the page, Daniel replaced his glasses while he straightened. "Jack," he said, delighted, and moved to clear the heap of books and papers from the only other chair in the crowded room. "Have a seat."

"Don't get much company?"

"What?" asked Daniel, but at Jack's gesture to the chair before sitting in it, he understood. "Oh, no. Well, no, I guess not, but even if I did clean up once in a while I'd just get more things to put on the chairs or pile on the floor. It'd be a waste of time, really, that I could spend deciphering these ancient texts. See, SG-15 went to PX-349 on a-"

"Daniel."

He shrugged, indicating that he had anticipated a certain lack of interest. "Just thought-"

"Don't care," Jack insisted.

"Okay." After a second's pause, he hoisted his own chair above his head, placed it where he had been standing, and took a seat. Looking expectantly at Jack, he waited for the conversation to ensue. When it was clear Jack didn't know what to say, he took charge, asking what seemed most pertinent. "Have you seen Sam yet?"

Jack felt the muscles in his back tense before he even registered the question. He hated being transparent and it was obvious he wasn't hiding anything now. Daniel was waiting for a response too anxiously for his question to have been any less significant than Jack took it to be. This man knew of the unfulfilled feelings between his two friends and former colleagues.

"No," he replied, clipped. "She's late dialing in." He didn't realize how anxiously he's been waiting to see the brainy blonde until he heard the disappointment in his voice.

"You're not worried about her," Daniel stated, leaving unspoken '_are you?'_

"Why would I be worried? We were late dialing in hundreds of times." He shrugged. "'Course, half those times we were being shot at, but we always came out fine. More or less," he added as an afterthought.

Daniel nodded, absent-mindedly studying his own chalk markings on the blackboard across the room. "What are you going to say to her?"

Holding his breath a moment, Jack exhaled when the pressure built in his lungs. _This was a mistake_. Standing, he answered, "I think I'm going to go fishing."

"Jack," Daniel reproached, knowing he had breached a subject his friend did not care to acknowledge, let alone discuss.

"See ya around," said the older of the two men, casually, as he turned his head over his shoulder and waved.

* * *

Colonel Samantha Carter left the debriefing session apologizing once more for her unavoidable lateness. Running a city was a full-time job and, invariably, every time she had a day – or, more likely, a few hours – to herself some emergency arose. The same was true of her quarterly trips back to Earth to debrief her superiors on the progress of the Atlantis expedition.

When the session had ended, Generafl Landry had told her to take some recreational time for the remainder of her two-day trip. She'd have simply gone back to Atlantis after the session and foregone the stretch of time ahead of her, but Landry's "suggestion" was just short of an order considering he could not tell her what to do with her free time.

She supposed she did have a tendency to overwork herself, but she could take it. In fact, she enjoyed having challenges, having responsibilities, and having literal piles of work. It just seemed so much more satisfying when she actually moved those mountains one task at a time and finished jobs that had once seemed unending. It didn't really count as overworking herself if she enjoyed her work, right? _Maybe I could use some recreational time,_ she thought to herself as she unlocked the door of her now barely used car.

Sam sighed as she settled into the driver's seat. The key lay in her hand, waiting to be used, but she took a moment before inserting it into the ignition. Why _had_ she sighed just now? The thought suddenly occurred to her and she couldn't get away without a moment of pondering. It was Jack, she knew. Rather, it was the lack of that man who smelled of spice and of the woods he'd left long ago for some desk job. But had that sigh been relief or disappointment. Shaking her head, she started the car. That was something she'd have to deal with later.

She stopped at the grocery store first; it was a refreshingly normal thing to do. There were often days when she realized her life was something out of a science fiction novel. When she was living in Colorado, it wasn't as noticeable because she still had bills to pay, rented movies, and bought groceries.

She had none of these things in Atlantis.

Of course, she had plenty of work to keep her occupied, but every once in a while she regretted the lack of leisure time. How long had it been since she'd done any work on one of the countless theories she had? So many documents filled her hard drive, but when was the last time she had even opened one of them? Lately, she'd found herself jotting equations on napkins at her meals. There was a small pile of them underneath a paperweight on her desk. She parked her car promising she would do something for herself in the next few days.

* * *

What had he been thinking, anyway? For years he'd had feelings for Samantha Carter and for years he'd suppressed them. After that had failed, he'd merely done nothing about them. Things had been going fine that way so far, hadn't they? Why fix something that wasn't broken?

Because he wanted more.

_There's nothing to be done about it_, Jack tolfd himself, shaking those futilely hopeful thoughts from his mind. Some part of him had realized that while talking to Daniel and so he had left the SGC without waiting for Carter to even arrive - without so much as a hello. Things had stayed the same for so long because one of them would have to make sacrifices for a relationship to work. He couldn't ask her to do that and he wasn't sure he wanted to do it himself.

But how many times had he thought about retiring once more? And was he sure that he wouldn't sink into depression again if he did?

The bob skimmed the docile water, gloating in its stillness that fishing in this barren pond was completely pointless. However, such mockery was equally pointless as Jack was well aware of the fact that there were never, nor would there ever be, fish in this pond. The reward of fishing, in his very enlightened opinion, was not tangible. Fishing was really about the relaxation, the patience required, and the stillness of his surroundings.

Stillness that, at that moment, was being interrupted by the sound of approaching tires on gravel. Sighing in irritation, Jack made absolutely no motion to greet the approaching vehicle. Often it was just some vacationers taking a wrong turn on their way to the campground. If not that, then maybe Daniel and Teal'c were bringing beer and company. Either way, there was no need for him to move from his comfortable seat.

But the car behind him didn't make a U-turn in his driveway, nor did he hear calls of greeting from his friends. Instead, the sounds of crunching gravel ceased, but the hum of the engine persisted a long minute. Finally, curious, Jack craned about in his chair, but in the darkening day, he could only make out a sedan in what appeared to be black.

Jack righted himself in his chair and recast his lure, uninterested.

* * *

Pulling out of the parking lot of the grocery store, Sam fought the small twinge of feminine guilt. She hadn't bought much, but everything in her back seat was laden with sugar, fat, and salt. It hadn't seemed like a big deal while she made her selections. After all, these things were impossible to come by off-world. Watching them slide by her on the conveyer belt, though, she'd realized how big a difference a few indulgences could make.

She'd pointed her car in the direction of home, but it wasn't long before her mind had zoned out in defense of the monotony of the road. When it occurred to her that the drive was taking entirely too long, Sam took stock of her surroundings. She had nearly arrived at Jack's pond-side house.

"Oh, jeez," she said to herself. Since when had autopilot been set to this destination? Sighing, she admitted to herself that, ever since her first time fishing on that dock, Sam felt a desire to return to that peaceful place and just sit with her thoughts. That desire had become irresistible, though, with the knowledge that Jack O'Neill had relocated to Washington. She knew he had kept this little house in the woods; he hadn't been able to part with it. Since it had been unoccupied, she hadn't seen the harm in using it for a few moments' solitude on occasion and she never went into the house, not that she had a key.

So instead of braking and turning around, Sam figured a minute on the dock and maybe even a quick walk by the pond would do her some good. As the trees parted around her, though, and the house came into view, her heart slammed into her chest and embarrassment flooded into her. The porch light fought off the impending darkness of dusk and a familiar figure sat on a disintegrating lawn chair with his feet up on a cooler she presumed was full of beer.

Knowing it was impossible she would go unnoticed, she just pulled her car up and put it in park before gripping the wheel tightly and resting her head on it in exasperation without even bothering to turn off the engine. Briefly, she thought about pounding her head on the steering wheel in front of her, but that would do no good and would likely give her a headache. Thinking quickly, Sam decided her options were to stay or to drive off, but what if he had recognized her car or if he had seen her? And if he had seen her, how could she explain leaving without saying hello? _How could she explain coming in the first place?_ Those explanations were further complicated by the fact that she'd had no idea he was even in Colorado to begin with. Steeling herself, Sam turned off the engine, threw her keys in her purse and stepped out of the car and into the cooling night air.


	2. Chapter 2

Hindrance

Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate: SG-1, Stargate: Atlantis or any characters related to said programs.

**J**ack O'Neill was mildly surprised when he heard the crunch of gravel as someone nonchalantly made their way toward him. Based on how long the car had idled, he had assumed it was a lost tourist trying to make heads or tails of a convenience store map before heading back to town and getting a motel room for the night. Still, it didn't surprise him. Most people seemed to be less than proficient at map reading and it wouldn't be shocking for someone to meander over to him to ask directions.

What was shocking was when he heard a familiar voice call to him before reaching the start of the pier.

"Hey." Sam had raised her voice to announce herself over the short distance. She didn't use his name, he noticed, but it would have been unusual if she had. Still, before his promotions there had at least been some modicum of familiarity in her reference to him as _Colonel. _His new title, however, being entirely too long for casual conversation, was dropped entirely and she tended to just avoid addressing him at all.

She drew in a breath, this one a little tighter than the others, as she contemplated this predicament just as he was doing. Oh, she called Daniel and Teal'c by their first names – Cameron even had a nickname – but she couldn't seem to will herself to use the first name of the man who was her superior. He'd never invited her to do so, for one. Still, even more indicative of the invisible wall they'd erected between themselves was the fact that he'd always called her Carter. In her dreams, her first name was on his lips, even in her nightmares. Most certainly, those ever-embarrassing fantasies were filled with him huskily whispering her name.

Feeling a wave of heat pass over her at the thought, Sam shook her head. Jack had removed his feet from the ice chest in front of him abruptly when she had spoken. Now he sat up straight and twisted in his rickety lawn chair to watch as she slowed her steps toward him. Plain shock showed on his face for a moment, dulling as he collected his thoughts and formulated speech.

"Hi," he answered jovially, if rather delayed in reply, and a wan smile splayed across his face. Samantha was exactly the person he wanted to be with right at that moment and that was just what worried him. His will was anything but iron; he had intentionally limited the amount of time the two of them spent alone over the years for that reason. He wasn't sure what would happen if he lost his willpower. _'That's not true,'_ he thought.

He knew precisely what he would do to her, _with her_, if given half a chance, and that's what made him wary.

She stood awkwardly at the cow-licked grass growing ungainly over the edge of the dock. He hands, clasped in front of her, rose to cross over her breasts, but as soon as they got there she released them, resting them on her hips for fear she looked annoyed in the previous position. Finally, Sam dropped them at her side, irritated with her own nervousness. "I didn't know you were here," she admitted.

Intrigued, he pulled the chair next to him to a different position, more as a gesture to offer her a seat than because its location had been inadequate, and he removed the box of grocery-store donuts that had been resting on it. Turning back around, he recast his lure and asked, "Then why are you here?" Understanding, she walked forward and sat slowly.

"I come here a lot," she responded. "When I'm on leave, anyway. I didn't think you'd mind. It's a good place to clear my mind for a while and just… be. You know?"

Looking over, his breath caught. The fading light caught the curve of her jaw as her head inclined in question. Her blonde hair, longer than he remembered, appeared amber for the moment. He wondered, for a moment, what tricks candlelight would play with the soft strands before gritting his jaw and thrusting away the images that thought had invoked.

"Are you sure you didn't just miss me?" His voice held that characteristically cocky and teasing tone. A smirk was on his face, but his eyes held a full on smile that she couldn't help but mirror on her own face.

"Maybe," she admitted skeptically, though she knew it held some truth. "But I just like your pond."

"My beautiful, _peaceful,_" he emphasized the word as he recast his empty lure for the hundredth time, before finishing his sentence hollowly, "pond."

She chuckled a moment, knowing the friendly mockery he had endured at his ceaseless fishing in an uninhabited body of water. This hobby, like many things for Jack O'Niell, was not about the destination so much as the journey. It was one of those things she loved about him. _'Liked,'_ she mentally corrected herself. Uncomfortable with the turn of her thoughts, regardless of the fact that he was unable to hear them, Sam shifted in her seat and crossed her legs. "You knew I was coming back today," she stated matter-of-factly.

"I did?" His tone was so innocent.

"Why else would you have come back at the same time?"

"Ever heard of coincidence?" he offered.

"I don't believe in coincidences." Yet there was this small voice nagging her from the back of her mind. If he'd returned at the same time as her and done so intentionally what was his reasoning? Her stomach tightened a bit at the thought.

"Who doesn't believe in coincidences?" he scoffed, sipping his beer lightly.

"A scientist," she answered simply.

"Astrophysicist," he corrected, emphasizing the word and mocking her gently. Jack gazed up at the stars for a long minute, just appreciating the twinkling lights in the sky. "Ever wonder what's up there?"

Sam only gave him a look of amused doubt.

"I felt obligated to ask," explained Jack. Reeling in his line, he placed the pole on the dock beside him and took his feet off the cooler. "You want a beer?" he asked, taking one out for himself and twisting off the cap.

"No," she replied emphatically, placing a hand to her roiling stomach. She always got so nauseas when she was nervous. "I wouldn't say no to a glass of water, though."

"Sure." He stood. Walking toward the house, he waved an arm forward and invited, "Come on in." When he reached the porch, however, Jack noticed she had not moved. With his hand on the door, he thought he realized why. It was safer for the two of them to remain outside. While dangerous for them to be alone, it was much more dangerous for them to be inside together. All manner of situations flew threw his mind in an instant. Sam kissing him on the couch. Sam threading her fingers through his hair, her legs wrapped around him, as he pressed her against the wall in the hallway. Sam lying naked on his beige cotton sheets and writhing beneath him. Sam moaning his name as steam fogged the mirror in the bathroom.

Lord have mercy.

His fingers grasped the doorknob slowly and he turned it, pulling the door from the frame. Why not just bring out a glass of water? Then they could stay outside for hours in the cool night air and talk about anything. Because then nothing would ever change. In that moment, he realized for the second time that, more than anything, he wanted things to change between them. Jack turned his head over his should, careful not to let her catch sight of the arousal that turn of thought had caused. His voice sounded immensely more casual than he felt when he asked her, "You coming?"

Sam lingered a moment, unsure. She knew, just as he did, how chancy it would be to enter his house. She felt it in her – that willingness to take a risk in hopes of winning. That feeling scared her. A woman who prided herself on her cool head and use of logic, moments of wild abandon terrified her. Whatsmore, wanting to have those moments of reckless and wanton pleasure left her petrified.

She linger another moment, her stomach passing tense and emerging into the roiling stage. How could this situation have emerged from a glass of water? Still, she couldn't very well say never mind. Focusing, she stood. _'Be sensible,' _she told herself. _'Going inside doesn't mean you are committing to have sex with him…' _But it was one of those cultural differences. It isn't a commitment and yet it might as well be. If she went in, wasn't she letting him know she was considering sleeping with him?

And wasn't it more obvious, the longer she waited to make a decision, that she knew precisely what it meant to follow him into his home?

"Coming?" he asked harmlessly, though his tone indicated he knew precisely the unspoken conversation they were having. He had come to terms with it.

Pressing her lips together, Sam felt a rush of lust come over her as she followed. She hadn't committed to sleeping with him. That was what sealed the deal. She could reserve that decision for later. For now, all she was doing was getting a glass of water.

**S**hutting the door behind her, Jack took a glass from the cupboard and rinsed it to get off any dust. Doing the same with a second, he asked, "What do you want?"

"What?" questioned Sam, lost in her thoughts. When he merely held up the glass he had been drying, she understood. "Oh, just water. That'd be great." Silently, she wished she could distract herself somehow. Maybe conversation would be enough. God knew she had to get her mind off the track it was heading down.

Jack handed her a glass as he took a sip from his own. Placing it behind him, he leaned backward to rest on the counter. The silence stretched on. Sam drank nearly her entire glass before she ventured to ask, "If you knew I was coming back, why didn't you stay to say hi?"

He didn't answer. Not right away. He couldn't admit that he had chickened out. He reached for his glass, spilling a bit on the counter due to the awkward angle. He took a long drink, tipping his head upward as he drained it, then stood upright and walked to the sink where he deposited it. With his back toward her, he said softly, "I knew it would end up here."

Sam knew he didn't mean that he was sorry they were alone in his house. He was just nervous – the same as she. They had been avoiding these circumstances for years, but here they were anyway. This time seemed more dangerous, though, because there was such thick tension in the air. Sam was feeling like taking a risk, like going after what she wanted, and she wasn't sure that Jack didn't feel the same way.

* * *

**J**ack returned from his short trip outside with his small cooler in hand to find Sam seated at the table. He placed the cooler on the kitchen counter and removed one of the beers it held. Twisting off the top, he pitched it at the garbage can and hissed when it connected with the rim, bouncing into the recesses of the dusty space behind the entertainment center. Sam looked over as he set his beer in front of the empty chair beside her.

"Want a refill?" he asked without sitting and took her glass when she lifted it, nodding. He detoured to the living room where he plucked the remote off the arm of the couch. Turning the television on, Jack didn't bother to check what station it was tuned to before setting down the remote on the table and waling to the sink. Sam looked lazily at the set as it came back from commercial, ignoring the increasing pitch of water filling her glass.

She felt him closing the distance between them a moment before he put the glass in front of her. The muscles in her back tightened in anticipation. It was unlikely that he would touch her, but still it felt as though each and every one of her muscles pulled her upright and closer to the object of her desire. That treacherous flesh rose in goose bumps as one long, ragged breath pressed her onto the firm wood of the chair behind her. Her eyes slid closed as she imagined he would lean over, kissing the nape of her neck. As the chair slid smoothly over the tile floor and Jack sat adjacent to her, Sam let out the breath she had been unwittingly holding.

"Is the news ok?" Jack asked, not knowing the effect he'd had on her merely by standing behind her. He was trying to coax her into conversation. Silent as things were between them in that moment, he felt rather awkward. He couldn't very well kick her out, nor did he want to do so. Still, if they were talking maybe he would be able to concentrate on her words and stop thinking about those petal pink lips.

"Yes," she replied, noticing the line of his sight. Unable to help herself, her tongue flew out and moistened her lips. "I'm not exactly up to date in current events."

"Shouldn't have cancelled your newspaper subscription," he replied smartly, taking a sip of his beer as he watched the screen. His eyes glazed over as he gave the pretense of listening to the newscaster's words. All he could think about was the woman beside him and how, if things went his way, she would be underneath him and letting loose a throaty moan. His butt wriggled in his seat, trying to make room for his aroused expansion. They fell silent again.

He heard her open her mouth again and lick her lips –was she _trying_ to tempt him? He closed his eyes in silent prayer before taking a swig of amber liquid. She paused, collecting her thoughts, or perhaps simply hesitating, before asking, "What did you mean when you said you were afraid things would end up here?"

Caught by surprise, he turned in his seat to look at her. She wasn't being timid or catty. Those things he would have expected of other women. She was confident and, god, did that turn his on. Her world in no way hinged on his answer. This was merely curiosity. "I thought we had an agreement _not_ to sleep together so that we could both keep our jobs."

His honest and blatant words surprised her. Stunning her, though, was her own bodily reaction to them. His implication of desire added fuel to the cheerily burning embers of her lust. It now threatened to roar out of control and overtake her. Blood pumping quickly with adrenaline, her head swam a bit in that pleasant, heady way she hadn't felt in entirely too long. Her boldness astounded even her as she found herself replying, "I'm getting tired of that particular rule."

Jack's chest seized in the midst of inhalation and he held that breath a long moment before his lungs forced him to exhale, though he tried to do so with some tact. His mouth parted slowly, unconsciously and, before he realized it he found himself gaping, mouth ajar. Licking his lips slowly, his eyes widened a moment in expression of stunned uncertainty and he ran a hand through his hair, stalling for time.

"Uh…" he gesticulated, closing his mouth before making a fool out of himself. Samantha Carter eyed him, trying to hide a sly smirk, as she waited for him to speak. God help him, he had no idea what to say.

**

* * *

**

A

uthor's Note: Sorry to leave you at a cliff hanger, but… oh, I guess I did that purposefully. 


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